


Tidbits to do

by Vesca



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:27:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9361829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesca/pseuds/Vesca
Summary: I'm going to start writing again, and here is my homework.  I'm hoping to post fairly finished short stories, but I have a habit of alluding to something always so much greater than just the small bit I'll put down.  Not all of these bits will be related, and as I go along I'll try to keep them organized or at least noted.  Archive tags will be updated when/if more serious things get added.  Not a lot of this will be fleshed out, much will be left to your subjective imagination.  I'm always happy to answer questions, but please understand if I just can't yet.  please enjoy!





	

They don’t tell you much when they’re training you to be a soldier.  They tell you what they think you need to know.  After you’re done that need to know turns into a bunch of hogwash.  It’s even worse when you know they weren’t done with you, but you had to leave because you were done with them.

So I sit and I groan and listen to myself creak knowing it was all my decision.  As a free citizen I’ve made my choice to sleep intermittently and most often under the stars.  I’ve made my choice to bear with sneers and side eyes as I walk through town.  I don’t show embarrassment when a small child rudely points out that my pants are blood stained; it’s not mine, I don’t care.  I walk solidly beside my beliefs knowing the choice was correct, and that true goodness is more than doing right, it’s recognizing when you’re doing wrong.

“Are we going to eat by a fire tonight?  It’s gotten colder.”

That goodness is double sided, just as my sword is.

“This town has lots of bright colors, but the lady wouldn’t let me touch them”

“Your hands are covered with dirt, I wouldn’t let you touch them, either!”

“Then you can be a merchant, and be mean to people, and I’ll be a warrior and save them!  Just like Deca!”

“You couldn’t be…”

Good and evil, represented before me, behind me, forever and always surrounding me.  I could leave them thrashing in the street, but Charla has actually pinned her brother quite well though he’s just grabbed her unwrapped hair.  I warned her about that, but she was vain and didn’t listen.  She’s still young.  Getre may have grown complacent watching her primp before we entered this town. 

A quick grab to Getre’s hair, and we’re through.  He also didn’t tie it back.  Within heartbeats the children are once more goodness, dust and dirt covered goodness but goodness nonetheless.

“I have a friend in this town,” I remind them.  “He will have heard about you two by the time we reach his door.  Gossip travels quick when you make a scene such as this.”  I don’t look at them as I turn to continue.  We won’t be purchasing anything today.

Briand’s house is small and separate from the town itself.  Outskirts are peaceful, and so full of eyes.  I can see them watching, wondering why I’m here, why am I followed by two dirty brats, why would someone such as I knock on the door of someone such as him.

“Decalor!  You shine with the light of a late night sun!”

Briand has always been a flatterer, a tongue twisting liar, and an absolute flirt.

“The dirt layer helps keep my normal jewel-like gleam down,” I return his smile with one of my own.  He’s seen it before, it’s safe.

“Come in, come in you tired wastrel, you bedraggled featherless bird.  Step inside and show off your young chicks!”

He’s also one of the few people to know another name for me, most of them are dead now.  The door closes with only my name said to the world outside.  The children are safely hidden behind doors and darkness as I introduce them properly.

“Briand del Sol’Gu, you stand before Charlanna of the green sands and her brother Getremeir who has sailed on the ocean and seen the sun trapped beneath the waves.  They follow me, and I lead them.”

“You’ve lead them long by the tone of your note,” Briand waved us farther back into his house.  “Rest and wash, and I’ll have put together a meal for you travelers.  Then you can tell me your tales, and not before we’re all pleasant and full.”

“Thank you,” Charla dips her head gracefully, and where she learned that I have no knowledge.  “Deca and my brother call me Charla, so please do the same.”

“Getre,” her brother pushes in .  “I’m just plain Getre, though I did truly see the sun under the water!”

The two can be pleasant when they wish, and somehow they also can do it when I wish too.  They’re good children.

Briand laughs in pleasure, he finds it in a lot of things.  “Then Charla and Getre you will be!  Behind the curtain to the back you’ll find a room and water to wash in.  Deca, there is a trunk of unmatched items if you wish new pants.  I know there’s a pair or two been left in there.  Find a shelf, and then come abck and find me, not that I’ll be anywhere far,” he says as he turns away.  “It is just one big becurtained room after all! Ha!”

Briand is the type of good that never needs to recognize he’s done evil because his soul would not let him.  He has a price, they all do, but his hands are not held out greedily.  His smiles are true, and we’ll be able to stay here and rest for a time.  Our peace is hard won, and the children deserve it.  Briand will be hard pressed to believe their stories if they manage to stay awake tonight to tell them.  I look forward to his face, to the sense of comraderie shared.  Our story is not a tale I’ve ever heard told before, and this will be the first I ever will. 

It’s time.


End file.
